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The Gypsy's Tale
The Gypsy's Tale (aka The Gypsy Tale) is a short story by Lori Ann Cole. It is a tale told in the world of Gloriana by the Gypsy Storyteller (Magda).https://web.archive.org/web/20031016074445fw_/http://transolar.com/HHpage.html It is a short story set on the world of Glorianna and "How to Be a Hero".https://web.archive.org/web/20031011195305fw_/http://transolar.com/TSMain.html Background This was originally a prologue to How To Be A Hero Novels co-written by Mishell Baker but was cut from final draft of By the Book and turned into its own short story. Lori Cole states: I actually have a copy of this on my archive hard drive. However this wasn't used in the current version of the book. I think of it as sort of another myth that grew up around the story of "How to be a Hero" - it may hold nuggets of the real events. The Gypsy's Tale There is a tale told by the Gypsy folk when the flickering flames of the campfire give scant comfort from the chill winds of the winter's night. The elders speak of a bright land far to the south where the sun rose daily to cloudless skies and cast its golden light upon the fields of verdant grapevines and the fruit of green-grey olive trees. Here, in the old ones' youth, the Gypsies would travel in their caravans like flocks of geese before the icy frost of fall. They would camp in the shade of scented cedar by the sparkling sands of the endless sea. The warmth and wild beauty of this land filled the wayfarers' hearts with peace, and washed away the weariness of endless wandering. This sun-blessed land was once ruled by a just and noble King and his gentle and beautiful wife. The Gypsy folk traveled freely through the kingdom, welcomed guests of these great rulers who valued greatly the knowledge and prescience of the free folk. One day, the wisest of the wise folk was called to the King's castle. She was guided to the most guarded and safest center of the keep where was kept the greatest treasures of this kingdom. For in this room slept the sons and daughter of the great King. The King and Queen greeted the wise woman graciously. "These are my heirs," spoke the king proudly as he gestured towards the children. Two boys barely beyond the semblance of babes stood at their father's side. They were as a mirror's image to one another. Their hair was the color of ripened grain in the glow of the setting sun. Their eyes were the azure hue of the mid-morning sky. Their faces were as bright as the summer's dawn. "Speak to me of their future," said the King. The Gypsy looked deeply into the souls of the two boys. She then turned to the child at the King's right side. "This is the sword," she said. "This is the warrior, the leader." The King smiled and was greatly pleased. The Gypsy turned then to the child at the King's left side. "This is the shield," she said. "This is the protector, the defender." The King smiled and was greatly pleased. The King then gestured to a babe barely standing at his mother's side. His hair was the color of brilliant candlelight in the stillness of the night. His eyes were the dark turquoise of the storm-masked sea. His face was as bright as moonlight upon the midwinter's night. "Speak to me of his future," said the King. The Gypsy looked deeply into the soul of the boy, and nodded. "This is the book," she said. "This is the knower, the sage." The King smiled and was again greatly pleased. The King then gestured to the babe nestled in her mother's arms. Her hair was the color of honey glistening in the honeycomb. Her eyes were the amber-gold of the tawny cat watching the fireplace. Her smile was as bright as the firelight that fills a room with light and warmth. "Speak to me of her future," said the King. The Gypsy looked deeply into the soul of the girl, and smiled. "This is the key," she said. "This is the seeker, the opener." The King nodded, pleased with the wise one's words. "You have spoken of what my children are, but not of what they will be," he then said. "Tell to me their future." The Gypsy woman looked once more into the souls of the children. Then she looked back at the proud ruler and shook her head grimly. "Do not ask that of me," she said to him. "It is best that such things remain unknown." "Tell me their future!" the King commanded. One does not lightly deny to a king his demands. The Gypsy looked at the King and shook her head sadly. "I see before these children three great things." The King was surprised at the Gypsy's words. "What great things are these?" he asked with a smile. The Gypsy looked at the King and bowed her head. "I see before all of you three great things -- great sorrow, great destruction, and great loss." The King was furious at such words. He banished the Gypsy and all her people from the land. The wise woman returned to her people and sadly told them that they must leave this land. It was not the King's words that hastened the loading of the wagons and the hitching of the horses. It was the foreknowledge that soon this kingdom would come to great grief. Only the wise woman stayed behind in a copse of cedars by the sea sands. She awaited the future she had foretold. ---- And so it soon came to pass that the King was betrayed by a trusted friend, and an army came across land and across sea to overthrow his rulership. The King and Queen were dragged defeated to this one-time friend. Before the cheering crowds of the conquering armies, the betrayer had them both beheaded. The betrayer then placed the bloody crown of the kingdom upon his own head. But of the children, nothing was seen. For the Gypsy had stolen into the castle on the eve of its destruction and guided the children to safety. The next day, the betrayer-king was furious when he learned that the children were missing, and sent out his soldiers throughout the countryside to slay them. The wise woman knew that those who would murder the children now guarded all roads from this kingdom. Thus, she sought the aid of a great wizard. "With your great magic, oh wizard," spoke the wise woman, "take these children to a distant land where they may be safe from the one who would destroy them." "This I will do," replied the Wizard. ---- There is a log-walled village to the North where the sun must burn away the morning clouds before it can shine upon the snow-capped hills and alpine firs. One dawn near the end of winter when the Gypsy folk were thought to be far to the warm lands in the south, the villagers awoke to an astonishing sight. In the center of their village square slept four children unharmed by bitter morning's air. The gates to the village had been barred in the night, and there were no marks in the snow to show how these children got there. The children awoke at the wonderment of the villagers. They spoke words that no one could understand. "It is clear!" said a old man who had an answer for every question. "The language they speak is the language of birds, for clearly they have flown here to nest in our village." The villagers nodded at his insight, and the children were soon adopted by the widowed village herbalist. They were known as the children of birds. When the Gypsies returned to this pine-shrouded land and learned of the villagers' story of the bird children, they smiled but said nothing. The wandering ones know many secrets... They also know many secrets of the future are best left untold.https://web.archive.org/web/20031016073959fw_/http://transolar.com/HHgypsytale.html References Category:Stories Category:How To Be A Hero Category:Alternate Canon Category:Articles (HTBAH) Category:Apocrypha Category:Short stories